Today was the day we were supposed to be working from home. Except, I didn't. Work, that is. Today was also the funeral and the Boy and I accompanied the Hubband and Nana came along and then we skipped the luncheon to "Eat at Joe's" and I just haven't felt like working since I got home. Tomorrow is the Beth Cote class and then a graduation party to go to, so I guess I'll be working from home on Sunday, instead.

Allow me to take a poll here. I was reading in "Health" magazine that the average married couple has sex 67 times a year. After much courage gathering, I broched this subject to the Hubband and he says they're liars. (Let's just say our rate is considerably less than 67 times a year.) When we were first married, we could easily beat that score, which is probably how we ended up with me eight months pregnant on our first anniversary. And there are circumstances on both our parts that make it less likely these days. Blah-Blah-Blah. I don't need to get into that here. I just want to know if everyone is getting it regular after marriage into the double digits.

I had a mature moment today. For an hour or two this afternoon my cell phone (the new shiny flip phone with the picture of the sunflower that plays Tim tunes)went missing. A serious search and several phone calls (to the phone itself and all the places I could have left it) turned up nothing. And I didn't get upset. No meltdown. No fit. Just an, "Oh well, that sucks." Even when Hubband came in stating he would have to buy a new lawnmower today I didn't have much of a fit. But I sure was relieved when Boy came downstairs with it later on. He had found it in the drawer of the desk where he must have put it after playing with it. Good for him. Good for me.

My apologies for the boringness of this. I didn't realize how tired I was until I sat down to write. Guess I'll go load up on some carbs and get some shut-eye, as I have to leave at 7:30 tomorrow. (Can you say Sbux?)